


Butter Makes It Better

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/F, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-27
Updated: 2004-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-01 07:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lana experiences a change in outlook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butter Makes It Better

## Butter Makes It Better

by Nuala

[]()

* * *

Title: Butter Makes It Better 

Author: Nuala <nightbloomingjasmine@hotmail.com>

Pairing: Lana/Chloe 

Spoilers: Through Season 3. 

Warnings: Beware Canadian spellings. 

Feedback: Oh please oh please oh please. 

A/N: Smallvillians seem to be categorically opposed to femmeslash, but I hope you'll give this one a try. This was written for Lacey McBain's "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" challenge, which cried out for a femmeslash response. Props to Lacey and Versipellis for the supremely fab beta-ing here -- any remaining errors are mine, not theirs. 

* * *

Lana's life sucked. 

Some days, she felt so sorry for herself -- for all that she had lost, for all the times she had been abandoned, for the amount of responsibility and anguish she felt in her life. Other days, she was disgusted with her own self-pity. After all, she had a good life, relatively speaking. She had close friends she cared for very much, she had her horse and The Talon, she was healthy and well-off and had her whole life ahead of her. 

But on those days when she felt sorry for herself, she felt so _justified_. So convinced that her life was unenviable and that others should pity her. Her parents, after all, had been killed before her eyes, and now Whitney was dead too. Her entire life seemed to be spent running away from one obsessed meteor mutant or another -- the latest being the second coming of Tina Greer. She had gone through disastrous and painful relationships with Whitney and Clark, and her only real friendship, with Chloe, was ... problematic. To top it all off, Nell, the only family she had ever known, had gone to Metropolis and left Lana to live with strangers. 

Well, maybe not _strangers_. After all, Chloe was her friend. They may have had their differences, but in the last year their relationship had developed into something more intimate. Their shared frustration with Clark had occasionally driven them apart, but Lana thought that its overall effect was one of bonding. 

And now they were practically roommates. Only six inches of wood and plaster separated them as they slept. Lana had thought such closeness would make her feel comfortable, like she was finally part of a real family like she had always wanted. Instead, she found herself feeling vaguely uneasy, tension humming through her body whenever she became aware of Chloe's proximity. Lana hadn't slept well since she'd moved in, and her appetite was dwindling. 

That last, though, may have been attributable to the unfamiliar food choices available to her in the Sullivans' house. Lana wrinkled her nose in distaste as she bit into a totally dry raisin scone. There was no jam or honey. They had only chunky peanut butter, and Lana fastidiously preferred smooth. Worst of all, instead of butter, there was only margarine to be had -- a particularly obnoxious kind of margarine calling itself "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter." 

Lana certainly _could_ believe it was not butter. In fact, she had a strong and abiding faith that the stuff was in no way related to anything resembling butter. 

She sighed and swallowed another mouthful of her dry pastry, feeling intensely sorry for herself and feeling reasonable in doing so. 

Chloe wandered into the kitchen, her blonde hair sticking out in all directions, yawning hugely. 

Lana swallowed with difficulty. "Good morning, Chloe." 

Chloe muttered indistinctly, and shuffled toward the coffee maker. Mr. Sullivan had made coffee before he had left for the airport an hour or more ago -- he would be gone on business for three days. Chloe poured herself a mug, microwaved it for a minute, and sat at the table where she squinted blearily at Lana. 

Lana couldn't help but smile affectionately. Chloe had that effect on her. "It's about time, sleepyhead," she chided. "We have to leave for school really soon. I was wondering if I was going to have to come and get you." 

Chloe blinked, smirking. "It's absolutely inhuman to make innocent teenagers start school at 8:30 in the morning," she announced, her voice slightly hoarse with sleep. "I stay up until all hours making _The Torch_ look professional. The least they could do is give me turnaround." She sipped her coffee. 

"Or a free pass on today's history test," Lana added. "Did you get any studying done at all last night?" 

Chloe made a face. "No." 

"Well, I'm sure you'll do fine anyway," Lana said. "You know more about local history than anyone. You'll be fine." 

"I suppose. Too late now, anyway." Chloe drank deeply from her coffee mug, her throat working as she swallowed. "At least I don't have to do the test on an empty stomach. What's for breakfast?" 

"There's cereal, toast or scones." 

"Decisions, decisions. What are you having?" 

"Scone." Lana opened the box of scones on the table between them and pushed it toward Chloe. 

Chloe took one and tore it carefully in half. "What've you got on yours?" 

"Nothing." 

"You're having it dry?" Lana raised the last ungarnished bite to Chloe in a mock salute. "That's really unappetizing, Lana. Those things have got to be four days old. You might as well eat a slab of wood. Why not at least put some butter on it?" 

"There's no butter." 

"Yeah, there is." Picking up her empty mug, Chloe went to the fridge and tossed the tub of "Only-A-Moron-Would-Believe-It's-Not-Butter" to Lana. "Catch." Chloe refilled her mug and popped it in the microwave. 

"Chloe, this isn't butter." 

"Well, it tastes just like butter." 

"No, it does _not_." 

Chloe raised her eyebrows. "Lana, it tastes fine to me." She got her coffee out of the microwave, grabbed a reasonably clean knife out of the sink, sat at the table and began spreading the "So-Far-From-Butter-That-Light-From-Butter-Takes-A-Thousand-Years-To-Reach-It" on her scone. 

Lana watched as Chloe bit hungrily into the defiled pastry, washing it down with a swig of coffee. "Now _that_ is unappetizing," Lana said. 

"You wound me, Lana," Chloe muttered around another big mouthful. Swallowing, she added, "I had no idea you were such a dairy snob. Now I'm afraid you'll initiate a eugenics program to eliminate my Cheez Whiz." 

"Don't even get me started on that stuff," Lana retorted, grinning. "That colour does not exist in nature, Chloe, and you're putting it in your body." 

Chloe swallowed the last of the coffee. "Well, I've always thought of my body as less of a temple and more of an efficient chemical processing factory." 

"Wow, your body is like the Luthorcorp fertilizer plant," Lana quipped. 

"And your body is like The Talon; losing profit margins despite all the capital and effort put into it." 

Lana frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Chloe sighed. "Lana, I _live_ with you. I see what you eat. Or rather, what you don't eat. You're losing too much weight and you're hardly eating anything. I know that living with us is a big change, but the last thing Dad or I want is for you to get sick because you don't eat enough." Lana looked down. Chloe scooted her chair next to Lana's, put a hand under Lana's chin and raised her head. Lana stared into Chloe's eyes. "If you want butter, we can have butter. This is your home too. You have a say in how things are around here. Just _ask_ if you need something, okay Lana? We won't kick you out for needing things that it never occurred to us to give you." 

Lana blinked, all the morning's self-pity evaporating, leaving guilt and shame in its place. She closed her eyes against Chloe's clear gaze. How could she feel sorry for herself when Chloe looked at her like that? "Thanks, Chloe," she whispered. 

Lana felt Chloe's arms go around her shoulders. "No problem," Chloe replied. Lana put her arms around Chloe's waist, leaning into her body heat. Chloe's pyjamas were soft flannel, and smelled like fabric softener. Lana inhaled; the scent was familiar, and Lana associated it with Chloe's presence. Her own clothes, washed with the same stuff, never smelled quite the same as Chloe's. 

Lana slowly opened her eyes. Suddenly, she saw the clock on the microwave. 

"Oh my god!" she yelped, pulling away. "Chloe, we have to be at school in a few minutes!" 

Chloe cursed, and ran for her bedroom. "I'll be ready in a second! Don't leave without me!" she called. 

Lana took a deep breath. "Not a chance," she whispered. 

They were several minutes late for first period, but managed to avoid a run-in with Principal Reynolds. Slipping into seats in the back row of chemistry class was easy enough. The day passed slowly, as it always did for Lana. The history test was predictably nasty, and Lana envied Chloe her effortless grasp of history, her flawless memory, and her knack for linking disparate facts together to form a coherent (if unexpected) whole. 

Changing before gym class, Lana was shocked to notice that Chloe seemed to be wearing a pair of Lana's panties. She felt her heart pound as her mind reeled. They had run two laps before Lana's brain finally kicked in, reminding her thundering heart that the laundry had probably just gotten sorted wrong. Chloe had been in a rush to get dressed that morning. She probably hadn't even noticed what underwear she was putting on. The fact that Chloe was wearing her fancy black lace push-up bra, which Lana knew she usually saved for dressing up on special occasions, attested to that. 

It wasn't until after school had let out for the day that it occurred to Lana that she was really spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about Chloe's underwear. She tried to put it out of her mind as she walked down the hallway with Chloe, Clark and Pete. 

"Clark, can you stay at _The Torch_ with me for an hour or so? I need you to help me fact-check the article on those cave paintings," Chloe was saying. 

"Sure. I can spare an hour or two." Clark looked at Lana and smiled widely. "Lana, are you staying too?" Lana saw Pete and Chloe catch each other's eyes and exchange a meaningful glance. 

Lana tried not to roll her eyes. Clark was so obvious sometimes. It wasn't that she didn't like him. Clark was kind, sweet, and incredibly attentive. His devotion to her was a real ego boost, and Lana knew it was unhealthy how much she enjoyed it. It was certainly unfair to Clark that Lana encouraged his flattering attention. Their relationship was like the sun and moon -- orbiting at a distance, Lana remotely reflected Clark's love but couldn't generate any for him. He just wasn't her type. There was no real spark between them. 

"Sorry, Clark," Lana replied. "I have to work at The Talon until late." 

"Oh." Clark couldn't hide his disappointment. 

Chloe smirked at Lana. "Maybe we can stop by later, once the article's done." 

"Sure," Lana replied. "I could use the company," she added, looking at Chloe. 

"Great!" said Clark. "See you tonight." 

Chloe and Clark moved off toward The Torch office. As they left the school, Pete turned to Lana, saying, "How are things between you and Clark?" 

Lana cocked her head, thinking. "I don't know. Strange, I guess. I mean, I wanted to break things off with Whitney before..." Lana forced herself to swallow back the pang of self-pity. "It's complicated." 

Pete nodded. "No kidding. You've been through a lot." 

"I don't need your pity," Lana said impatiently. 

"Whoa, girl," Pete said, holding out his hands. "I don't pity you. You're really strong to have gone through everything and come out the other side. I don't pity that; I admire it." 

Lana softened. "Thanks, Pete. You're such a good friend." 

Pete smiled a little. "Yeah, well, what are friends for?" He cleared his throat. "So how are things with you and Chloe?" 

"Fine." Lana frowned uncertainly. "Why?" 

"Just wondering. Lately she seems kind of, I don't know, _intense_ whenever she's around you. I thought maybe something happened...." Pete trailed off, looking at her questioningly. 

"I can't think of anything," Lana said thoughtfully. "I suppose she's a little worried about me. She said she thinks I haven't been eating enough. Maybe she's trying to make me feel like part of her family." She smiled. "I'm lucky to have her as a friend too." 

"Yeah, Chloe's great," Pete said, smiling with humour but not meeting her eye. "You want a lift to The Talon?" 

"Sure. Thanks." 

Her shift at The Talon went almost as slowly as the school day. Serving customers was trying and doing paperwork was mind-numbing. She loved The Talon, but she sometimes wondered if running a small-town coffee shop was all she'd ever do with her life. 

Around 5 o'clock, Chloe stopped in. 

"Hi, Lana! How's it going?" 

Lana smiled. "Since an hour and a half ago? Pretty much the same. Finish the article?" 

"Yeah, on my own," Chloe said snarkily. "Clark took off after about ten minutes. I have no idea where he went. I had to finish that article myself and I haven't even _seen_ the caves!" 

"That sounds like Clark," Lana sighed. "His middle name is 'unreliable'." 

"No kidding. Can I get a double espresso to go?" 

"Aren't you staying?" 

"Can't. Busy. Places to go, people to see," Chloe said vaguely. 

"Chloe Sullivan, Ace Reporter," Lana said, smiling. Then she frowned. "What about keeping me company?" Lana asked, trying for a light tone but unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice. 

"Maybe after you get home," Chloe said. "Sorry." 

"No, don't worry about it," Lana replied. "Let me get your espresso." 

Lana made the coffee, pouring the two demitasses into a paper cup and popping on a lid. No cream or sugar for Chloe when she was on the go. 

"Here you go," she said handing it to Chloe. "I'll see you tonight." 

"Sure thing." Chloe turned to leave. 

"Just a second," Lana said. She reached out a hand to Chloe's shoulder and gently pulled her shirt up to cover the black lacy strap that had been visible. "Your, uh ... your bra strap was ..." 

Chloe smiled crookedly. "Jeez. Thanks, Lana. I was probably walking around like that all day." 

"No, you weren't," Lana replied too quickly. Chloe shot her a penetrating look. "I mean, I'm sure no one noticed." She swallowed. "I'd better get back to work." 

"Okay. Don't work too hard." 

"Yeah, right. See you tonight." 

Several hours later, Lana finally closed and locked The Talon's door behind her. Walking home, she let herself wonder about Chloe. Pete had said she was acting "intense" -- whatever that meant. She had been a bit distracted today at The Talon. Lana wondered what was wrong with Chloe, wondered if maybe she was beginning to regret having Lana as an indefinite houseguest. She wondered if Chloe was beginning to lose patience with her, maybe starting to get angry with Lana's self-pity. 

Lana hoped not. She knew she wasn't perfect, and that she tended to talk about herself and her own problems too much. But Chloe was her friend, her best friend, and Lana really didn't want to think about losing her or not being a part of her life. 

At least Chloe seemed to be at home: there were lights on inside, and Mr. Sullivan would be in Metropolis meeting with some of LexCorp's suppliers. 

As soon as she went inside, Lana smelled cooking. She found Chloe in the kitchen, wearing an apron, flour up to her elbows, looking completely pissed off. 

It took Lana a few moments to assure herself that she wasn't dreaming or hallucinating. When she found her voice, all she could say was "Chloe?" in an incredulous tone. 

Chloe glanced up, smiling crookedly at Lana. "Hi, Lana. How was work?" 

Lana shook her head, still trying to wrap her head around the sight of Chloe in the kitchen. "Chloe, what's going on?" 

"I'm cooking." 

"Cooking." 

"Yes." 

"You, Chloe Sullivan, are cooking. In a kitchen. With, like, ingredients and things." 

Now Chloe was looking strangely at Lana. "That's generally how it's done, Lana." 

Lana shook her head again. "Not by you. I was under the impression that your idea of 'cooking' consisted of 'remove from freezer and microwave for one minute' or 'add boiling water and stir'." 

"Not tonight." Chloe smiled. Lana's heart skipped a beat. "Tonight, I have ventured into the realm of gourmet cooking." 

"What? Who are you and what have you done with Chloe Sullivan?" Lana's question was only half-mocking. Tina Greer's personality in Chloe's body was still fresh in Lana's memory. 

Chloe seemed to sense Lana's implication. "Don't worry, Lana, it's really me. Not heffed up on meteor rock or anything. I know it's a little out of character, but ..." 

"Yeah, it is. Your usual relationship to food is consumption, not production." 

"And yet..." Chloe wiped the flour off her hands with a tea towel. 

"And yet," repeated Lana, at a loss. 

"So, um, there's spaghetti, and garlic toast, and a salad. I hope you're hungry." 

Lana's jaw dropped. "You made this for me?" 

"Do you see anyone else around here?" Chloe flashed another blinding smile at Lana. "Of course it's for you. It's not great -- I mean, the tomato sauce is from a jar, and I think I over-cooked the noodles, and..." 

"Chloe, it's perfect. It's my favourite, you know." 

"Yeah, I know." At Lana's confused glance, Chloe continued, "I called Nell in Metropolis and asked what you like to eat." 

"You shouldn't have." Lana felt overwhelmed. "This is the sweetest thing you've ever done." 

Chloe smiled and smiled, and Lana thought it was adorable. "Hey, I even got you real butter for the garlic toast. And for other stuff." 

Lana grinned. "Really?" 

"Straight from the cow's unmentionables to your dinner table." 

Lana wrinkled her nose, still smiling. "Gross, Chloe." 

"You're the one who wanted it." Chloe was laying things out on the table. Lana could see that the garlic toast was singed, and the spaghetti was looking distinctly limp, but ... Chloe had _cooked_. For _Lana_. 

"Chloe, this looks wonderful. You really shouldn't have." Lana suddenly thought of something. "You had flour on your hands when I came in." 

"So?" 

"So what were you using flour for? None of these things needs flour." 

"Oh." Chloe gestured toward the oven. "I, um, made muffins. Blueberry muffins." Lana stared. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I can bake when I want to. Contrary to what Pete thinks, I do have a nurturing feminine side. Nell said they were your favourite for breakfast, so...." 

"Oh, Chloe." Lana impulsively ran to Chloe and embraced her in a crushing hug. 

"Okay, Lana, I need to breathe..." Lana released her, their arms remaining loose on each other's waists. "Whew! If I'd known I'd get such an enthusiastic response, I'd have cooked for you a lot sooner!" 

Lana gave a half-smile. "Or you could cook for Clark. Maybe hugs are a side-effect of your cooking." 

"Hmm," Chloe said indifferently. "Maybe." Lana looked at her askance. Chloe grinned at her. "I told you, Lana, I am over Clark Kent. I am so far over him that I can't see him in the rearview mirror anymore. Now," she added, sliding her arms off Lana's waist, "let's eat before it gets stone cold." 

The meal was by no means gourmet, but it was the first thing resembling home-cooked that Lana had had since moving in with the Sullivans. Mr. Sullivan knew how to cook from his years of being a single parent, as did Chloe, apparently, but neither of them had the time or interest to cook on a regular basis. The commercial sauce on packaged spaghetti was delicious, the salad was fresh, and Lana relished the buttery garlic bread. 

They chatted about inconsequential things while they ate, and Chloe got up periodically to check on the muffins in the oven. As they finished the meal, Chloe finally removed them, holding the pan up proudly for Lana's inspection. "See? They're perfect. I told you I could bake." 

"I won't believe it until I sample those," Lana said, smiling. Blueberry muffins really were her favourite; Chloe had made these from scratch, with Kent Farm organic blueberries, and Lana suspected they would be fantastic. With just a pat of butter spread on for texture... 

While Lana sat at the table, Chloe served them each a muffin still warm from the oven. Lana eyed the butter -- real, honest-to-goodness butter -- on a saucer on the table. She pulled open her muffin with her fingers, and a small puff of steam emerged. She buttered it lavishly, then bit into it. Chloe was right -- they were perfect. 

Lana hadn't realized how hungry she was, how little she had been accustomed to eating lately. She practically devoured the entire muffin, adding more butter frequently, letting crumbs fall onto her lap and melted butter dribble on her hands and chin unheeded. As she swallowed the last bite, she began licking her fingers, like she had done when she was a little kid. She glanced up at Chloe to see what her friend's reaction was. 

Lana had expected to see amusement or shock. Instead, Chloe looked ... well, she looked _intense_. She was observing Lana with a direct and piercing gaze, her own muffin untouched. 

Lana pulled a finger out of her mouth with a faint pop. "What?" she asked. 

Chloe blinked slowly. "Nothing." 

Lana looked back, brow furrowed. "Seriously. What are you looking at?" 

Chloe was silent for several seconds, her gaze unwavering. Then she scooted her chair around right next to Lana's, still looking intently into her eyes. "You have butter on your chin," Chloe said quietly. 

Lana held herself very, very still, not blinking, barely breathing, as Chloe slowly ran a finger along Lana's chin, catching the offending butter. Lana watched, mesmerized, not breathing at all, as Chloe brought the finger to her own mouth and licked off the butter with her pink tongue. 

Lana was speechless. She couldn't think; her mind buzzed with white noise. All she could see Chloe's lips and tongue on her finger. The rest of the world fell away. 

Suddenly, Lana was breathing far too fast, almost hyperventilating, and her mind raced. She struggled to understand. What was Chloe doing? Did it mean anything? Was Lana misinterpreting, or did Chloe .... 

When Chloe leaned forward and pressed a soft buttery kiss to Lana's mouth, the debates in her mind fell mercifully silent. Chloe's hands cupped Lana's face, and Lana couldn't help but put her arms around Chloe and pull her closer. 

Chloe's tongue slipped past her lips, gentle and teasing. Lana made a noise in her throat and slid off her seat and onto Chloe's lap, needing more contact. It was all too wonderful: Chloe's breasts pressing against hers, Lana's arms holding Chloe so tightly, their tongues twining, the noises they both made, and the smell of tomato sauce and blueberry muffins and fabric softener. Things were twisting and tightening inside Lana's body, tension and heat pooling in her nipples and between her legs. 

Lana remembered when Tina Greer had come back, and thought how she still hadn't sorted out exactly when she had been talking to her real friends during those few days and when she had been talking to Tina. Lana had always half-hoped that when she had found Chloe in her room after her shower, it really had been Chloe looking at her like that and sensually touching her bare shoulder. Whenever Lana indulged in this line of thought, she told herself that if Chloe ever touched her like that for real (by now she knew it had been Tina of course) that Lana would respond more positively that by jumping back in shock. 

So she held Chloe tightly, and kissed her deeply. Nothing had ever felt this good -- not the chaste kisses and awkward touches she had shared with Whitney or Clark, not even close. This felt right, like something she had been waiting for without really knowing it. It had a profound effect on her body; she felt feverish, like her insides were melting, and her hips were shifting around in Chloe's lap of their own accord. 

Suddenly, Chloe pulled back, keeping her arms around Lana's neck. They were both out of breath. Lana said softly, "What is it? Why did you stop?" She could feel the tension insinuating itself into her back and neck, suddenly anxious that Chloe might tell Lana to stop, that this was a mistake or a misunderstanding. 

But Chloe smiled her beautiful smile at Lana, the first time Lana had ever seen it this close. "I was worried ... are you sure about this, Lana? Is it going too fast?" 

"Not fast enough," Lana said breathily, shocked at herself for sounding more like Nicodemus-Lana than regular Lana, but leaning in for another sweet kiss anyway. 

Chloe looked a little surprised too, and turned so that the kiss landed on her cheek instead of her mouth. "Lana, listen. I want this too... You have to have known for... oh god..." Chloe moaned as Lana delicately nibbled her way back to Chloe's ear. "But I think we should maybe slow things down, take some time to think about-mmmph!" 

Lana stopped Chloe's talking by kissing her full on the mouth, licking lavishly along Chloe's lips until they opened for her, then exploring Chloe's mouth with her tongue. She tasted so good, felt so good, Lana never wanted to stop. For once, she simply rode her passion, allowing herself to take what she wanted without lying to herself. A small, distant part of Lana's mind was crying that if she went through with this, her life would be changed forever. Lana was under no illusions about what it would mean to be gay in a small town in Kansas. She knew for sure that it would be easier to be a meteor mutant in Smallville than an out lesbian. But the rest of Lana's mind was preoccupied with the feel of Chloe's thighs under hers, with the soft slickness of Chloe's mouth, with the press of Chloe's breasts, and the overwhelming feelings of belonging and need. So she didn't stop kissing Chloe, didn't stop running her hands up and down Chloe's arched back, didn't stop squirming and thrusting in Chloe's lap. It felt like nothing else ever had. Lana was on fire, she was liquid-melting, she was pure desire. 

"Please," Lana whispered against Chloe's mouth, "let me." 

Her hands went to the collar of Chloe's top, pulled it slowly down, looking into Chloe's eyes for permission. God, this was incredible. Lana couldn't believe she was doing it, but she couldn't stop. The top was stretchy and had a wide neckline, and Chloe helped Lana pull in down her shoulders and off her arms, revealing Chloe's lace bra. It was sheer; Lana could see Chloe's hard nipples through the black material when she leaned back to look. Slowly, scarcely believing it, Lana brought both hands around to cup Chloe's breasts. Chloe moaned and arched into her touch. Encouraged, Lana ran her thumbs over Chloe's nipples, delighting in the frantic breathy sounds it drew from Chloe. She could feel Chloe's hips shift under hers. 

Lana had Chloe's bra undone and flung away in a matter of seconds. She stared at Chloe's breasts in her hands, pale and rose-tipped. Meeting Chloe's eyes, Lana could see desire and joy reflected back at her. Lana's breath caught in her throat. Chloe was so beautiful. 

Then Chloe's fingers were undoing Lana's buttons, fumbling whenever Lana's fingers brushed Chloe's nipples. When the blouse came off, Lana had a moment of doubt. She felt so unattractive next to Chloe. Lana knew she was small, her body more like a little boy's than a woman's, her features plain under the makeup she always wore. Chloe was always spectacular, curved and confident. Lana felt like an uninteresting brown bird next to a splendid peacock when she compared herself to Chloe. And now the differences between them were completely uncovered. Lana blushed to see her small breasts in her plain pink cotton bra next to Chloe's creamy skin and luscious cleavage. 

Lana was startled when Chloe muttered, "God, you're so beautiful," in a gutteral growl, and then leaned down to mouth at Lana's nipple through her bra. Lana arched her back so hard it hurt. It felt so incredibly good - she'd had no idea it could feel this way. 

She made no protest when she felt Chloe's hands undoing her bra behind her back, was even relieved when the material fell away and Chloe's lips and tongue laved her sensitive flesh. Lana tangled her hand in Chloe's hair, grinding into her lap. She was slick and hot between her legs, rubbing herself on Chloe's thigh, feeling like she could never ever stop moving against Chloe, never let her go. 

With one arm around Lana's waist, Chloe undid the button of Lana's pants with one hand, her tongue never leaving Lana's chest. Lana shivered as Chloe undid her zipper, she arched and moaned as Chloe's fingers slid inside to rub her through her panties. Lana ground herself on Chloe's hand, breathing hard and groaning over and over again, "Chloe, Chloe, Chloe..." 

When Chloe's fingers deftly moved her panties to one side and touched her directly, Lana felt like she'd been struck by lightning. The sensation of Chloe's finger curling and teasing her was absolutely overwhelming. Wave after wave of pleasure broke over her body, and she shuddered with the force of it. Chloe lifted her head from Lana's breast and looked up at her, her lips red and swollen and her eyes dark with desire. "Lana," she whispered hoarsely. When Chloe leaned in and kissed her, the pleasure crested and drowned her, pulsing through her in waves that sprang from where Chloe's finger still touched her. 

Chloe brought her slowly back down with gentle kisses and murmured endearments. She pulled her finger out of Lana's pants and, while Lana watched with contentment, licked it clean. They held each other for long moments, kissing slowly, their breasts caressing each others', breathing slowly. 

Finally Lana shivered, goosebumps breaking out on her exposed skin. Chloe grinned. "You're cold. And you just got in from work when we had supper. Why don't you go shower and I'll clean up in here? We can ... talk later." 

Lana smiled shyly back. "I'd like that." She slipped off Chloe's lap, and when Chloe stood she drew her into another loving embrace. "That was ... incredible. You're amazing, Chloe." 

Chloe smiled her adorable smile. "You too." They stood with their foreheads pressed together, looking at each other. Lana still couldn't believe what had happened, or how wonderful it felt. When she shivered again, Chloe pushed her gently away, then tossed her blouse and bra at her. "Here. Go shower." 

"Bossy." Lana made a face. She softened immediately, looking at Chloe as she struggled back into the push-up bra and shirt. "Chloe?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I, um ... I really like you, you know." 

Chloe grinned. "I really like you too, Lana. I would never have risked our friendship, if I didn't want to touch you so badly. I'm so happy you feel the same way." 

Lana smiled back, and walked off to the bathroom. Oddly enough, she didn't feel sorry for herself at all. In fact, her life was pretty darn amazing. 

_Next morning_... 

Lana happily bit into her blueberry muffin, heated in the microwave and dripping with butter. Real, delicious, creamy butter. It was the best breakfast she'd had in ages. 

Chloe stumbled into the kitchen just as Lana finished eating. Lana smiled and smiled and smiled. Chloe looked adorable, wrapped in Lana's old bathrobe. They had shared Lana's bed last night, just sleeping and cuddling a little. Lana had worn her usual pyjamas, but Chloe had opted to sleep in only Lana's panties. Chloe sheepishly admitted that while she wished she'd had the foresight to wear them deliberately for gym class, it really had just been a laundry mix-up combined with her frantic morning routine. Not that Lana supposed it would stop Chloe from doing it in future, now that she knew what effect it had on Lana. 

Chloe sweetly kissed the top of Lana's head, before acquiring her first cup of coffee. Lana was impressed that she took precedence over the coffee. It was fresh this time --Lana had made a pot when she got up. For Chloe. 

As Lana watched Chloe sip the coffee, she felt ... happy. Satisfied. Comfortable. All the things she wanted, the things she always talked about or whined about. Now she had them. She wanted to be worthy of Chloe -- that meant no more focussing on her problems, no more focussing on herself. She was happy right now, and so delighted with Chloe, that she couldn't imagine being bitter or negative or self-centred. 

Chloe smiled at her from over the rim of her cup. Lana smiled back with all her heart. 

Life was good. 


End file.
